Secondhand Emotion
by Lindakins
Summary: What's love but a secondhand emotion. Who needs a heart when a heart can be broken? Can they really handle no strings ? RoryLogan
1. Let Me Let Go

**Summary:** What's love but a secondhand emotion. Who needs a heart when a heart can be broken? Can they _really_ handle "no strings"?  
**Pairing:** Rory/Logan Post-"Wedding Bell Blues"  
**Disclaimer: **Don't even own the socks I'm wearing…

**A/N:** I've been a long time reader and a beta of many amazing stories. This is my first foray into writing one. Thanks to all the fantastic authors who have inspired me, especially **Becca (radcgg)** who is my hero in every sense of the word! Story title is from _Tina Turner_ and chapter title is taken from _Faith Hill_. Please read and review!

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**Secondhand Emotion  
****1: Let Me Let Go**

"_If this is for the best  
Why are you still in my heart  
Are you still in my soul  
Let me let go"_

She doesn't know who she is anymore; yet when she looks at him, she sees the endless possibilities of who she could be.

She does know, however, that he's bad for her and that no good can come out of this mockery they've set up for themselves. It has all the trappings of a relationship but none of the substance. They've fallen into a comfortable pattern these last few months. Or rather, _he_ has. She's spinning out of control and doesn't know how to set her world right again. When she was adamant about being able to do this, deep down, it was more about convincing herself than him.

She's always had a choice when it came to guys: Get back together with Dean or get involved with Tristan; stay with Dean or jump to Jess. She's always had the power to control her fate. With him, she knows she couldn't back away even if she wanted to.

There's something about him that fascinates her; it isn't just his indisputable good looks. It's more in the way he carries himself through life. He is confidant and charming; sweet and dangerous all at the same time. He is everything that she is not.

She finds herself waking up at ungodly hours just to avoid getting comfortable in his arms, knowing that the illusion of bliss comes at the cost of her sanity. She avoids going to places where she might see him with other girls. An accidental run in early on almost made her burst into tears on the spot.

She tries her hardest not to get attached to his friends, despite their best efforts to win her over. She knows it will be that much harder to let them go when he inevitably tires of their arrangement and moves on. She is always alert and on her toes, waiting for things to come crashing down around her.

She wants to tell him that she was wrong; that they have everything and nothing at the same time and she wants more.

Her fingers itch to pick up the phone and call him. She wants to purge her soul to him and find solace in those warm chocolate eyes of his. She wants to lose herself in his embrace and for him to promise her his heart. He's had hers from the moment he sent that infuriating smirk of his her way. The smirk that will surely be her downfall.

She strengthens her resolve and reminds herself that it's pointless. He's made clear what he wants and doesn't want. Even with her limited experience with the opposite sex, she knows guys do not react well to things they don't want to hear. She should know by now it never works out well for her.

She didn't tell Dean that she loved him and ended up with her first broken heart. She wouldn't let herself admit her attraction to Tristan and lost her chance when he was shipped off. She couldn't even convince Jess to stay, even after he told her he loved her. As the painful reminders surface in her brain, she decides that it's better to keep everything to herself if she wants him to remain in her life. It's a silent cross she will have to bear.

She is in desperate need of a distraction if she wants to stop herself from over thinking everything, yet again. Resolution firm, she picks up the phone and instead calls Marty to arrange to come over and study. She convinces herself that it's better this way. Her temporary breakdown is just another example of her neurotic self and why he won't want to deal with all the baggage she comes with.

She can do this. She can detach herself emotionally from him and just enjoy his company. She's in college and should be living life to the fullest. Not everything has to be so serious. She can look at this as an adventure; something fun, something stupid, something bad for her, just something different. Isn't that the point of being young?

Who is she kidding?

She's fallen _hard_ for him and there's no going back. 


	2. Right to be Wrong

**A/N:** The last line is actually what inspired me to write this story. Thanks to all those who reviewed the last chapter. Special thanks to **Becca (radcgg)** who not only told me this didn't suck, but gave me a '_squeeeee'_ as well. ;) Chapter title is from _Joss Stone_.

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**Secondhand Emotion  
****2: Right to be Wrong **

_"I've got a right to be wrong  
I've been held down too long  
I've got to break free  
So I can finally breathe" _

He has always been a man who's known who he is and what he wants. Until _she _came along.

He has very clear expectations of those around him and the same can be said for them of him. In exchange for letting him gallivant around the world, his father expects him to take over the family business one day. His friends look to him as a leader, while he relies on their support and loyalty. He dates girls who want nothing more than to be seen with him and to have a good time. They understand that he doesn't do commitment.

Despite his wild ways and 'devil may care' attitude, his life is built on order and understanding; he is always in control.

He wonders just exactly when all that went out the window. The shift must have been subtle; a blink-and-you'll-miss-it type of occurrence.

He now finds himself lingering by _Pushkin_ during the rare occasions when he is in the library. He scans campus coffee carts as he passes for any signs of the familiar brunette. He spends more and more time in the newspaper office. Having to deal with Doyle kissing his ass is worth being able to watch her get wrapped up in whatever she's working on.

It is only in the confines of his room that he even acknowledges these feelings. Outside of those four walls he remains the mighty Logan Huntzberger. Care and worry free.

He wonders how she seamlessly became so ingrained in his everyday life. When he started comparing every potential date to her. Why simple things like coffee and newspapers bring an idiotic grin to his face.

He pretends he isn't pleased by the fact that his friends have not only accepted her into their group, but are as captivated by her as he is. Stephanie is ecstatic to have someone "without a Y chromosome" to talk to, while Finn and Colin go to great, and often absurd, lengths to get her attention. He doesn't even acknowledge the warm feeling he gets from seeing her smile and hearing her laugh at their antics.

He refuses to accept how natural it's become for her to drop by on Friday nights after her dinners, just to hang out with them, watching movies, playing cards, or trying to talk Finn out of whatever craziness he has cooked up for the evening.

She entertains them with tales from that night's dinner. The unsurprising appearance of a new maid, the most recent book Richard has gotten her, or, more often than not, the latest battle between Emily and Lorelai. When she speaks of this, he can always detect a hint of pride in her voice, hidden beneath the exasperation.

He knows that Lorelai is her hero in every sense of the word and finds himself wanting to meet the dynamic woman who helped shape her into the person she is today. He tells himself it is because someone like Lorelai is rare in his world. She is someone who never conformed to what high society dictated and came out the victor. Someone he respects.

It has nothing to do with wanting her approval.

Despite his best efforts, he seems to have acquired a new heightened awareness of everything to do with her. When he awakens in the mornings, she is always gone. The cold empty space that replaces her warm body serves as his wake up call. The only reminder of her is the strawberry scent on his pillow and the tightness he feels in his chest. He doesn't think about why the latter happens more and more frequently these days. If he did, he'd have to admit more than he's ready to.

Every morning, along with the tightness in his chest, comes the fear that today is the day she has woken up and come to her senses. She has realized that he is all wrong for her. She's gone back to her childhood sweetheart, met someone in one of her classes, or heaven forbid, has decided that nice guys _don't_ finish last and given in to those lovesick glances that Marty has been sending her way.

He desires clarity; he wants all these thoughts and emotions to turn into something tangible, something he can grasp. He wants to know what it is that she has over him. What it is about _her_. Why her startling blue eyes constantly haunt him. He needs to put a name to this hold, this power, this thing that is just out of reach.

When the clarity comes, it's swift and sudden, knocking the breath out of him.

Those are _strings_, Pinocchio.


End file.
